


in another life

by de_sociate



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Billy's Funeral, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Grieving, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 03, The Upside Down, i'm not sure what else to tag, in short: this is a fic about steve dealing with billy's death with a twist, not a fix-it fic, twist ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 21:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20319754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_sociate/pseuds/de_sociate
Summary: the upside down.it just takes, and takes, and takes.it had taken.and it took more.one would be foolish to think it wouldn’t do so again.alt; steve harrington struggles with processing the aftermath of the events at starcourt. he even struggles with processing the events that had happened before.





	in another life

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends! 
> 
> i present to you all the fic i've been working on diligently for about two weeks now haha. this was meant to be at most 5k but i got out of hand. 
> 
> quick note: i got a comment on a previous fic i wrote in lowercase about the lowercasing being an issue. i write in lowercase sometimes to help with my own creative process. this was one of those fics that just flowed for me in lowercase. 
> 
> before you read this fic, i'd highly suggest considering playing some of the following tunes. these were in heavy, heavy rotation whilst i was writing the fic. or, in more better terms, these were the only songs i'd listen to you while writing this fic. the songs are listed below: 
> 
> 1\. afterglow, the driver era  
2\. roddy, djo [start off with this one!]  
3\. a little death, the neighborhood   
4\. daddy issues, the neighborhood   
5\. the beach, the neighborhood  
6\. single, the neighborhood   
7\. stuck with me, the neighborhood   
8\. afraid, the neighborhood   
9\. prey, the neighborhood   
*. or, just in general, the "this is the neighborhood" playlist & the "x" album by the driver era 
> 
> so yeah, i hope you enjoy! if you guys have any other songs you'd think would fit such a playlist, please lmk! curated playlists help me write more things for the ships they're specifically made for :)

the upside down.

it just takes, and takes, and takes.

it had taken.

and it took more.

one would be foolish to think it wouldn’t do so again.

the aftermath of starcourt mall hit each individual differently. some mourned, some grieved, and some simply felt lost. it had been a summer that began with gleaming promise and change, only to end in monstrous destruction and death.

somehow, life went on, as it did with hawkins--one situation after the next.

joyce byers followed up upon the offer that she’d made for a place at the beginning of the summer. and, then, off went the byers, taking along with them eleven, driving away from town that seemingly only treated them with despair and grief. out in the new city, joyce and eleven grieved as jonathan and will attempted to make sense of their new lives.

mike and nancy wheeler, back in their quaint house of middle class action, found themselves lost amongst the changes. everyone could feel the cloud of sorrow that had befallen hawkins. it was just that some weren’t capable of connecting directly to it. holed in their house, mike and nancy hid from the sorrow, lost.

lucas sinclair was more or less caught up grieving with his mourning girlfriend. to max, billy’s death hit harder than anyone expected. day by day, she could be found in his room, staring out of the window. eventually, after some time, lucas joined her side in an effort to support his girlfriend in a situation where he, just like mike, couldn’t connect directly. locked in an unfamiliar room, lucas and max lost time, one mourning and the other comforting.

dustin henderson found himself caught between many lives. he had susie, someone he could turn to who wasn’t messed up with all that was hawkins. but then, he also had the series of events that had occurred leading to the starcourt showdown to tie him down to hawkins. and so, dustin found himself dealing with the situation by coaching erica sinclair, a new recruit to the shitshow party of hawkins, in the ways of “nerd” while constantly talking with susie. in an attempt to wade through the haze that had overtaken his life and town, dustin distracted himself.

steve harrington was also in a similar state, where, on one hand, steve was just as connected to the situation as the rest of them, having dealt with the progression of the monster stories from the get go. yet, on the other hand, steve wasn’t connected to the obvious aftermaths. he didn’t have a partner who had lost someone dear. he had also barely associated with those lost. it was such a strange feeling where steve’s heart would find itself in pain at the thought of the new reality, but his mind would find itself unable to process the hurt. and so, with a new companion, robin buckely, in his life, steve opted, as many of them did, to ride the wave out as the seasons changed yet again in hawkins. returning to the same status of job searching and working of the start of summer, steve tried his best to seek out some normalcy in his life.

it was desperate.

steve was desperate.

they all were.

desperate and scared.

that was the perpetual aura of hawkins, indiana.

there’s a feeling that erupts when the bad guys loses--a feeling when the bad guy gets what’s coming to them. when a piece of shit finally gets a piece of their medicine.

billy hargrove was nothing but a piece of shit. at least, that’s what he had been in steve’s eyes. to steve, he had been a boy who lived his life with no regard for the rest of the world, trotting down the street of hawkins with an ego large enough to envelope the town and an attitude that practically announced his arrival from miles away.

yeah, steve wasn’t too fond of billy.

and so when billy was flayed, a part of steve found himself expecting a similar emotion to come up.  _ yes _ , steve had somewhat expected to feel.  _ take that, hargrove. _

it didn’t. that wasn’t what he felt.

steve expected to be emotionless.

even that didn’t happen.

as steve watched from behind the railings in horror as billy stood up from atop of eleven to face the mind flayer, his heart dropped immediately.

_ no _ , he thought as the consequences of billy’s actions played in front of his eyes.  _ no! _ his mind yelled, tears forming, a scream caught in the back of his throat as billy’s lifeless body fell to the ground.

someone screamed billy’s name.

it wasn’t steve.

someone cried out billy’s name, sobbing immediately after.

it wasn’t steve.

it might as well have been, however, given how the boy had fallen to his knees, shaking as his ears rung, sending his mind on a frenzy.

someone called out for steve. probably robin.

steve didn’t say anything.

  
  
_ no. _

  
  
steve could remember just one conversation he had with billy where it didn’t end in a wash of pure hatred from either of them.

it was sometime towards the end of the school year, right before the summer. steve had been waiting in his car outside the arcade to pick up the little ones from another one of their nights of trying to beat max’s high scare. it was after a while from arriving, the moments in which steve had found himself regretting actually arriving on time, that billy had arrived in his blue chevorlet camaro, speedily dashing past steve and pulling into a spot behind the building, one that was shadowed enough for him to slip out of his car unnoticed and light a cigarette.

steve noticed. he noticed as billy lit the stick, puffing out the first two smokes before relaxing against his car, eyes closed.

it seemed like a private moment, steve realized as he watched billy rub his face in apparent frustration. it seemed like a private moment and steve couldn’t take his eyes away.

could you blame him? steve had been bored out of his mind before the violent enigma known as billy hargrove had pulled over to the arcade, obviously present to pick max up.

and steve was still bored to the point that it was agonizing. with a nonexistant moment of contemplation, steve found himself stepping out of his car, running a hand through his hair, and walking towards billy.

the other saw him coming from the moment steve stepped out of his bmw 337i. billy’s immediate reaction wasn’t anger, but confusion, as he looked over with furrowed brows. it soon changed to annoyance with billy rolling his eyes and stepping forward a bit as he squared his shoulders, preparing for whatever it was that steve was going to say to him.

“what do you want, harrington?” it was a cold question, but there was no bite behind it. steve found himself a bit shocked by this.

the brunette scoffed and shrugged, leaning up against billy’s camaro just next to the other. the motion was cautious as steve watched for billy’s reaction to him leaning against his car. billy didn’t seem to care, and steve was just a bit shocked once again.

“just getting bored out of my mind waiting for the kids,” he stated as a matter of fact.

billy snorted, his cigarette puffing along with the laugh. “your fault for coming so early like an idiot.”

steve rolled his eyes. “yeah i got that, thanks.”

what followed after was just silence. pure silence. under normal circumstances, billy would’ve found a way to fill the silence, infuriating steve to the point that he would vow, yet again, to never approach the other again. however, as the silence droned on, steve noticed the exhaustion on the other’s face in the dark circles, pale complexion, and trembling hands.

things weren’t the same as they used to be. steve knew that. after the throw down at the byers’ house, steve had noticed billy being just a little drawn back. just a little.

and it wasn’t easy, steve realized. just then, in front of him, steve watched as the taller visibly struggled with his pretense and the discomfort that came of it. steve knew billy wanted to say something. anything, really.

the silence made billy uneasy.

“hey, man,” steve said, shoving a little at billy’s shoulder. it wasn’t a threatening gesture, but, more or less, a gentle one, as steve tried to shake billy out of his haze. “you good?”

maybe it was his hand against his shoulder or possibly his genuine inquiry of worry that got billy all worked up, eyes wide, breathing shallow. steve frowned as billy chuckled darkly, the exhaustion on his face deepening as he shook his head and turned to steve.

“listen here, pretty boy,” he started, sounding completely done. “when life gives you a second chance you take it, and never let it go” he paused, searching steve’s eyes. “because second chances are hard to come by and some of us never get it,” billy looked at steve deeply, the sincerity in his words and gaze weighing steve down in a way where he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. “until it’s too late.”

steve opened his mouth to reply, only to stutter on the nonexistent words.

“do you understand?”

how was he to reply to that? what was he to say to a visibly tired billy hargrove as the boy patiently waited for his response?

what could steve say?

the kids came barreling out of the arcade, laughing and yelling, alerting both billy and steve from the special moment they seemed to be in. max came around the corner to find the two of them, her smile bright and blinding. she shouted at the other kids about their whereabouts, not too fazed by the fact that steve and billy were talking.

billy was quick to walk into his driver’s seat, never looking once at steve as he did so. at this, max threw a weird look in steve’s direction before sitting into the car.

confused and lost, steve stumbled back, allowing himself to be dragged by a cheerful dustin. as he drove off away from the arcade and billy, he found himself reeling at memory of their conversation. he gave the occasional sounds of affirmation to dustin as the younger yapped away with glee about his victories of the night.

with dustin dropped off, steve drove away and pulled over on the road next to the woods. he sighed, eyes wide as billy’s words repeated themselves in his head.

he felt like shit. he felt like utter shit. he had wanted to say something. he had wanted to reply. he really had needed to say something because billy hargrove had just opened up to him for the first time.

but he couldn’t. in the moment, steve didn’t know how to find the words.

and now there he was, panicking in his car, bathing in the pure guilt washing over him.

“fuck.”

what should’ve steve have said?

because he didn’t say anything at all.

as if it wasn’t already generally uncomfortable to be in hawkins already, billy’s funeral had crept its way to the near present.

in all honesty, steve hadn’t expected the invite. he hadn’t expected max to walk through the doors of the comic shop alone, dressed in nothing but a zipper hoodie and sweats, with the intent of handing him an invitation.

but she did. one fateful morning, she walked through the doors, looking like utter shit. eyes tired and face white and all. right from the moment he had seen her from the bookshelves where he had been putting up the newest marvel issues, steve knew something was wrong.

max walked up to robin, the other already running around the counter, seeing the distress on the younger’s face.

“hey max,” robin greeted sweetly, bending down to give the girl a hug. “what’s going on?”

max smiled as best as she could, the grin never reaching her eyes. she returned the hug, holding onto it for a bit before letting go. “nothing much. i stopped by to give steve something.”

hearing this, steve wasted no time in dropping the booklets in his hands and walking from where he was hiding. as he emerged from behind the brown, crowded bookshelves, max turned to see him, flashing him that same smile she had given robin before. with a clearer view of max’s complexion, steve’s stomach dropped.

he knew that look. he knew that one thing that could get max as down as she was in that moment.

billy.

“h-hey max,” steve called out, standing next to robin. “what’s going on? everything okay?”

max nodded quickly, fumbling in her pockets for something. she pulled out a crumpled envelope and handed it simply, not meeting steve’s eyes.

“y-you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” she stuttered out. “but, you were one of the only people i saw actually talking to him so...” at this point, she looked up to see steve, holding back tears. “it’d be nice if you came.”

steve didn’t even have to open the envelope to know what she was inviting him to. he didn’t even have to even give the idea of attending the funeral a second thought as he replied to the invite in person.

“don’t worry,” he said, with a certain level of sincerity that he had only achieved in a few moments of his life. “i’ll come.”

this time when max smiled, it reached her eyes just a bit. just slightly.

“thank you, harrington.”

steve almost choked at that moment. billy only ever called him by his last name. instead, he fought the tears that were threatening to form as max walked away from the two of them and out the door.

“do you need a moment?” robin had asked.

steve held onto the enveloped tightly.

“no. i’ll be fine,” he whispered, turning to the bookshelves, prepared to hide behind them until he was ready to come back out. “i think.”

it wasn’t like steve completely ignored billy. that much was impossible in their tiny town of hawkins. had steve really wanted to avoid the other, he’d have no choice but to stay in his room all day and night, every day of his life.

thankfully, it turned out that steve had no intention of feigning pure isolation for the sake of avoiding one individual.

him and billy weren’t violent all the time either. in reality, they hardly ever were, that one night in the byers household being an extreme exception. sure, billy had a temper, and steve was no different either. but, as time continued, and the two of them processed the events from that one winter, changes were observed. it became easier for steve to walk down the hall and pass by billy. they’d share a look, and then continue on in their own lives. steve found it less awkward running into billy when picking up the kids. a major part of the minor comfort was also in part due to max’s increasing comfort as well, for, as the weeks rolled on, her having to get into billy’s camaro started to become less scary and more welcoming for the young girl.

it was these minor moments that slowly shifted billy;s image in steve’s eyes. it was the few times billy pointed out his mistake in calculus, never once meeting steve’s eyes, that slowly molded a whole different character in steve’s eye. it was the aggressive yet constructive criticism on the court during basketball practices that slowly carved away the billy hargrove on display and revealed the true billy hargrove on the inside.

what steve found himself settling with was just a bit amusing, the label, more or less, being incredibly editorial. it was also a bit unnerving, for steve felt it to be a little too generic.

a troubled, young man.  _ jeez, write it in the papers, will ya?  _ steve had thought to himself with a shake of the head in the moment the words had echoed in his brain.

steve’s image was more or less solidified when, one day, max had been late to the arcade. steve had waited a little bit inside the arcade with the boys, his attention taken more or less by the young girl’s tardiness, rather than the screaming group of boys in front of them.

steve winced at mike suddenly roaring at the machine, the demonic cry shaking up the entire building. “jeezus,” steve ground out, massaging his temples. “how the hell does max hang out with you guys?”

dustin turned to him, bemused. “she’s the loudest out of all us, believe it or not.”

steve had to perform a quick memory recap on max’s personality to sigh and nod. “good point, henderson.”

dustin giggled, punching steve on his shoulder. he paused, seeing steve look back outside in worry. “hey,” dustin frowned, his fist opening up to hold steve’s shoulder. “you can go, you know? max is probably fine. just running late because billy had to finish a set with the weights or something.”

steve looked at dustin. he simply nodded, knowing that the younger had a point. “okay. okay.” he stood up, fixing up his bomber jacket. “don’t be late, guys. i’ll be outside at the same time as always.” he then made his way to leaving, not wanting to stay for the immediate brushing off of his reminder.

walking out of the doors, steve yawned, fishing through his pockets for his keys. it had been a long week for him, and as steve walked towards his bmw, he found himself smiling in anticipation for his well deserved nap. he even began to whistle with a skip in his step, his keys being tossed up into the air.

abruptly, he stopped at the sound of small sobs in the background of the bright evening. steve’s smile fell, his keys almost falling out of his hands. he turned on his heel slowly, towards the source of the sound only to see that the person was blocked by brick. curiosity taking the best of him, steve had to slowly walk around the back of the store to pinpoint the source.

he dropped his keys.

it was max. the sobs were coming from a little max mayfield, curled up in on herself, her head in her hands. her skateboard was next to her, causing steve to realize that billy hadn’t dropped her off that day. his mind jumped to conclusions.

“max?” steve spoke softly, crouching to meet the young girls level. he winced as max stiffened, freezing mid sob. as she looked up slowly, steve couldn’t help but reach out towards her in an effort of comfort.

“steve?” max croaked out, reacting to the older’s advances. she took a moment before jumping straight forward for a hug.

steve frowned at this, his worry increasing. “is everything okay? are you hurt? did bi--”

max pushed back, shaking her head, knowing that steve was about to suggest. “no, no, no, i’m fine.  _ i’m _ fine.”

steve couldn’t understand, his eyes desperately searching max’s blue ones for answers. “then what’s wrong? why are you crying, max?”

at this, max’s face immediately crumpled, the sobs wracking her tiny frame again. steve cursed under his breath as he adjusted himself so that he was leaning against the wall, giving max more room to hold onto him comfortably.

“max, please,” steve pleaded, the worry becoming to much for him. “what’s wrong?”

hearing steve’s pleading, max wiped at her tears, craning her neck to look around for people. when she saw that no one was around, she turned to look at steve, carefully investigating him. steve let her look him over, waiting patiently for her to talk.

“look, steve,” she whispered, strangely calm. her eyes were still red as they bored into steve’s. “i’m going to tell you something that you can never tell anyone.  _ anyone _ . even dustin.”

steve nodded, breathing out. “i promise i won’t tell anyone.”

max waited for a few more seconds, calculating. then, she spoke. steve wasn’t sure what to expect.

“billy’s dad roughs him up.” but he wasn’t expecting that.

“what?”

“and it’s happening right now.”

“what?!” steve’s voice got a little louder, causing max to jump out at him and cover his mouth. still looking deep into steve’s eyes, she kept talking.

“and now i’m here because billy made me leave so that i wouldn’t g-get hurt,” this confession caused her to choke up again, her voice cracking.

steve’s eyes were wide as he looked at max. the information was a lot to process, enough to send steve into a frenzy. when max finally released him, steve couldn’t help but be a blubbering mess. he had to take a deep breath before turning to face max with an actual coherent question.

“how can i help?” was all he said. it was all that he could say.

max shook her head sadly, looking at her hands. “you can’t. h-he always makes me leave. a-and i never know how to help. billy says that it’ll only make it worse.”

steve wanted to protest. he really did. there had to be something that could been done.

looking down at the sad girl in his arms, steve sighed, calculating. sure, he wanted to help billy. but as he looked at max try and keep herself together for whoever’s sake, he found leaning into max’s words and letting the idea of directly helping billy go.

if he was to try to help the other, steve was going to do so by taking care of max.

steve ended up taking the young redhead to his car, parking a little towards the back of the parking lot, in the same spot as that strange conversation with billy that one night, so that the boys in the arcade couldn’t see her. he let her talk, cry, and just breathe, giving her the space she needed in his car. max told him, countlessly, to let her out and just go home, saying that she could see the sleep in steve’s eyes. steve had told her that he wasn’t going to “just leave her alone after all of that” and that he’d be “more relaxed” in knowing that max remained okay.

eventually, max fell back into her seat. she told steve of how billy’s father, neil, had always been like this. apparently, it had started in california. max said that neil didn’t ambush billy in front of her until that time after the byer’s house. after that, she said, neil didn’t seem to care and would start to “rough” billy up in front of her. she wanted to help, max said with a heavy sigh. but supposedly, billy doesn’t let her, saying that he’s tried so hard for neil to not turn on her, and that, and she quoted billy, he “wasn’t going to let her change that.”

“i don’t know how to help him, steve,” max whispered, staring straight out at nothing. “there’s nothing to do to help.”

steve didn’t want to believe it, back in that state of protest. he couldn’t. there had to be some way to help.

but as he watched billy pull up in his camaro and max instantly run out, he found his resolve to help directly deflate again. billy didn’t leave the car, and max, instead of going straight to the passenger’s seat, beelined for the driver’s seat. she ripped the door open and leaned over to inspect billy, repeatedly asking if he was okay. from what steve could see, billy took her hand, saying something that made max smile softly and shake her head. the younger then replied back a lengthy reply, motioning in steve’s direction. billy seemed to panic a bit, causing max to shake her head and quickly say something back. it was a few seconds before shifted, reaching for the door, most probably telling max to get into the car. max nodded, grabbing onto her skateboard tightly, and walking around the back of the camaro. steve kept his eyes trained on billy as the other turned around and flicked the driver’s seat light.

steve gulped as billy looked at him with tired eyes, the light illuminating his bruised right eye, the shadow hiding the rest of his injuries. billy gazed at steve with such a gentle energy that the brunette that never seen from the blonde. before max made her way to her seat, billy smiled suddenly and opened his mouth.

and he mouthed thank you.

max sat in the passenger seat, and, just as quickly as billy had driven in, he drove out, leaving steve behind in his car, panicking yet again.

and so yeah, billy certainly wasn’t the boy he put himself out to be. not by a long shot. steve connected dots, drawing lines from behavior to reason, finding himself gripping tightly onto his steering wheel as realization of billy hargrove continuously dawned onto him.

“fuck.”

surprisingly, after that encounter, billy didn’t harden towards steve. he just continued their dynamic as it always had been before, maintaining the distance, only to close in on minor fleeting moments every now and then, never once leaving an opening for steve to jump in and broaden his role in billy’s life.

it was so nonchalant. sure, steve started to notice more things like bruises and the correlation between their reoccurrences and billy’s temper. sure, steve started to notice even smaller things such as the moments in which billy broke character, most of which were with max. sure, steve started to notice a lot.

but, even then, it was so normal. as if it was always how it had been, and how it was supposed to be.

steve hated it. hated it with a passion. billy hargrove was a class-a asshole. sure, steve could admit that.

but he didn’t deserve  _ that _ shit. no one did.

_ fucking hell, _ steve thought.  _ just... _

_ fuck. _

the actual funeral itself wasn’t as “strange” as steve had expected it to be.

it was small and it was quiet. and that was all.

it was a very small group of people gathering together in a funeral home on a cloudy saturday morning to officially bring a young boy’s life to a conclusion.

it was a pew somewhere in the middle of the room with a few teen lifeguards sitting, present out of a respect for a fellow coworker. they hadn’t known billy for long, but, strangely enough, billy certainly had been a delight in the break rooms. moreover, he had been an amazing employee, one who was highly respected by the department. so, yeah, they didn’t know him. but they knew billy enough to feel for him and his death.

it was a pew towards the very back seating the wheelers and the byers. joyce had driven the boys over, will and el to support max, and jonathan to support nancy, who had somehow found herself at the funeral with her crying mother by her side. while karen was present obviously out of guilt and sadness over the young boy who had stolen her attention that one unfortunate night, joyce’s presence was far more deep than just will and jonathan. she was present in a form of thanks to the boy who saved their town, her boy, and hopper’s girl.

it was a pew towards the front, on the left side, seating a teary eyed max with her party by her side. it was the day that max had been dreading, the day that she had been lost over in billy’s room. lucas was leaned up against her, his hand in hers, squeezing it ever so often as max broke down. max was strong, there’s no doubt about that. but this was a time she couldn’t be strong and mighty, and, fully understanding that feeling with el’s disappearance, it was mike who had suggested accompanying her during the service. and when mike said something, the others tended to find it hard to argue, leaving the situation with the rest of the kids crowded around lumax, their worry more for max than billy.

it was a pew towards the front, on the right side, seating a couple who called themselves billy’s parents. susan hargrove knew she had no premise to be present in the service. she hardly ever talked to billy, despite being in the same house as his new mother. while a case in her defense would be billy’s unacceptance of her, susan never put herself out to try to insert herself in billy’s life. how could she? neil was incredibly adamant that she didn’t, claiming that he could handle billy, and that was all. as susan ducked her head in shame during the service, she found herself regretting her role as a bystander in the young boy’s life.  _ maybe _ , she thought, shaking her head more so at neil’s hand rubbing circles on her back than anything else.  _ maybe if i had tried more, he would’ve still been alive. _

it was an aisle down which a very disoriented steve harrington walked, looking at each and every member of the service. it was strange, oh so strange, to see a room so heavy with just a few people in its large expanse. but as steve looked over to the front, the large portrait of what looked like billy from before california staring at him, he felt the entire weight of the room fall on his shoulders.

it was heavy. incredibly heavy. so heavy that steve walked very, very slowly to the pew right behind the kids, situating himself right behind max, his movements slow and cautious, as if steve were afraid that the world was about to turn over from his head to his heels at any moment.

max turned to look at him, her somber blue eyes looking at the older boy in understanding. the two of them smiled lightly at each other. as steve recollected himself, leaning back into the seat and straightening his coat, he couldn’t help but see billy in max, fully knowing that the two of them were step siblings.

_ thanks _ , she mouthed, just as billy had done weeks before that night in the arcade parking lot.

and steve had to choke back the wave of emotions that threatened to wash over him, his efforts of recollection dismissed.

the service was quick.

it was a lifeguard talking, detailing billy’s extreme success at his job and his authoritative skills. there was something in the speech about how billy would’ve gone places had he still been alive that caused karen wheeler to choke out a silent sob towards the back of the room. steve ignored it as nancy whispered comforting words to her mother, still confused about the entire situation.

it was the funeral director talking, practically giving a philosophical lecture about the bridge between life and death and where billy was with all of that. steve suspected that the director hadn’t been given enough material to make the sermon more relevant.

not that he would know.

it was then max, in all her teary wonder, speaking softly yet boldly about her new brother and his glorious life. she spoke of all that she knew and all that she didn’t know and of how he was a dick, but mostly never for the wrong reasons. she spoke of his passions with weights and life, recounting the times in which his energy was so overbearing, she couldn’t help but be sucked in and join, often in the form of car ride sing-a-longs.

it was beautiful and it was wonderful. and as steve smiled at max as she finished, he smiled even more, seeing the love the girl had as she spoke.

lastly, it was neil hargrove walking up to the podium, causing all of max, susan, and steve to tense up. steve squinted as he looked for any signs of distress or despair on the man’s face. and, to his expected horror, there was none. neil spoke of his son in a manner in which an improv artist would speak of a topic randomly given to him for an act--nonsense. steve had to hold back his reaction of disgust as he watched the man play the role of a perfect father to a less than perfect son at the podium when he knew better.

it was revolting. it was infuriating.

and steve couldn’t have been any happier when neil stepped off of the podium.

the final moments of the service were led by the funeral director. they all shifted outside, one by one, quiet as the rain poured, falling with billy down into the six feet ditch, flooding away the tears that were falling and should’ve fallen.

steve watched through his wet hair plastered against his forehead, as the casket was lowered. a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if billy would’ve liked to be buried in california.

max was the one to confirm this. “this should’ve been done in california” she whispered to lucas, shivering underneath their umbrella. “he was more loved there.” she shifted a little, looking at steve staring at the casket. “but neil doesn’t care.”

steve let out a breath, his jaw locked.

there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing the bad guy go down. and stay down.

steve shook his head, his anger manifesting into pure hopelessness.

but, billy wasn’t the bad guy. he wasn’t a bad guy in general. there were way more spoiled rats amongst them for any of this to feel right. it didn’t feel right to see the abusive father lower his son into a grave. it didn’t seem right to see the leftover chaos of the product of failed lab experiments wreck despair across families in an entire town. it didn’t seem right to say goodbye to billy, once and for all.

because it wasn’t.

it wasn’t right.

nor was it fair.

steve was still shaking his head when the crowd had begun to disperse. steve was still standing as most of the crowd had disappeared, the few stragglers moving as well. even max had been led away by lucas sometime in the time that steve had lost.

someone’s hand softly touched his shoulder, shaking steve out of his daze. the boy looked over to see nancy wheeler, accompanied by jonathan byers, holding an umbrella above him.

“steve?” she said softly, so softly that even then, she was afraid it was going to break steve. she didn’t have to ask him if he was okay. steve could already see her worry.

steve continued to shake his head, letting out a dark chuckle.

“it isn’t fair, nance,” he managed to croak out, looking back at the casket. “it just isn’t.”

nancy’s response was coming closer with jonathan, the both of them gently leading the boy away from the freshly covered grave.

“it’s not fair, nance,” was all that steve could say before sitting in the back seat of jonathan’s car.

“i know,” was all that nancy said.

and then she closed the door.

the very last proper conversation that steve had had with billy was sometime towards the end of the school year and the beginning of summer. as it always seemed to be, the interaction was instigated by their mutual responsibility of the kids.

the night had already fallen. summer in hawkins always began with warm days and colder nights, sometimes even the coldest. this one particular evening was particularly chilly, enough to bring goosebumps across steve’s arms and shivers along his spine. night had fallen and it was late. the kids were staying at the byers for a sleepover for, as dustin had described it, “a special campaign that could take all night.” steve was just happy that the kids hadn’t found a way to drag him into the situation.

how he ended up sitting along the quarry next to billy hargrove on the roof of the boy’s blue camaro, however, was the mystery of the night, the two of them resting on their arms, a bottle of whisky being passed around. if steve could remember properly, there was something about him starting up a conversation about night plans with billy, at which the boy had replied with news of his friend jack daniels and the quarry.

steve hadn’t realized it was an invitation until billy had yelled at him with a honk from his car, an expectant look in his eyes.

while shocked, steve couldn’t help but comment on the situation smugly as he slipped into the passenger seat. “warming up to me, are we now, hargrove?”

to which billy just snorted, jolting the car back and around in a steer. he looked at steve, far more smug, and laughed. “just gotta make sure the royalty of hawkins is treated properly around here, eh king steve?”

billy slammed the gas while steve stuttered out a response, a light blush to his cheeks. no one needed to know those details and steve found himself hoping that the darkness hid the flush of red across his face.

and so, by the strange sequence of events, there they were, present on a chilly summer night, at the top of a height of rocks overlooking what was water and hawkins. accompanying the scene was a view of the starry night that was both breath taking and frightening.

it was beautiful--the moments that passed between the two of them.

the bottle was passed around frequently while billy was quite eager to push conversation with steve, poking at him about the most nonsensical things, bringing up gossip in the whole mix.

steve wasn’t entirely opposed to the conversations, the multitude sips of whiskey slowly warming him up from the cold, awkward state he had started the night in. the brunette, also eager, replied to billy’s claims of gossip, agreeing or refuting the blonde’s claims. the occasional taunts were the moments in which steve would scoff, roll his eyes, and punch billy on his arm.

this dynamic cycled through the night until the two boys were too intoxicated for their own good, most of the bottle empty. as the night continued with the stars twinkling and the clouds rolling in and out, what was happening between steve and billy developed into something more lighthearted as steve started to giggle nonstop and billy began to laugh out loud incredibly loudly. the wind blew and the air remained cool, but between the whiskey and billy’s arm radiating pure heat against his own, steve found himself in an incredibly comfortably warm space.

their laughs died down eventually, once the bottle had stopped to be passed on between the two of them. it was still in billy’s hands, resting against his thigh, waiting for either one of them to take another swig.

steve yawned, his eyes starting to feel heavy. shifting around with a hum, he let his head roll to the side and hit billy’s shoulder. under normal circumstances, steve would’ve recoiled in panic immediately.

but these weren’t normal circumstances, and steve was fully ready to embrace the rarity of the situation.

eyes closed and content, steve sighed into billy’s warmth. he felt the other’s head turn around, the softest chuckle coming out of the movement.

“are you tired, steve?”

_ steve _ . billy called him steve. that too in the softest voice that steve had ever heard in his life.

_ ever _ .

steve dared to tilt his head up a little bit and open his brown eyes to stare directly into billy’s largely blown out blue ones. his golden curls rustled a little in the wind, and steve couldn’t help but stare at them, then following his gaze to billy’s dark, luscious eyelashes, and then billy’s red lips, and then billy’s crystal blue eyes.

billy just stared, the typical dark look in his eyes far more softened yet still strong. steve gulped, unable to stop his staring. he knew he had to reply sooner than later.

“yeah,” is all that he said as he ripped away his gaze and re-situated himself against billy’s shoulders. he could feel the amused exhale that left billy’s chest at steve’s movements.

wordlessly, the other stretched out his arms, bringing steve in closer. they both sighed as steve leaned into the hold, now close enough to actually feel and notice the rise and fall of billy’s chest.

steve couldn’t really fall asleep after all that. billy was literally burning against steve, searing his skin, and sending the brunette’s mind reeling in ways that steve couldn’t comprehend.

steve was overwhelmed. with emotion. with feeling. with sensation. with  _ everything _ . and as he seemed to panic in his frenzy, it seemed that billy was in a similar boat too, his breaths slowing down, in the sense of them being more controlled and calculated.

steve was reeling and billy was thinking.

the wind blew harshly, bringing a new sense of chill across the two boys. steve instantly curled into billy and billy instantly held onto steve tighter.

and then there was a silence, a strange silence, one that somehow seemed loud to the two of them.

billy’s chest rose all of a sudden as the boy took a deep breath. steve frowned, eyes still closed.

“you good?” he mumbled into the embrace, his voice small.

billy kept the breath in and waited a few more moments, calculating.

and then he asked it, a strangely haunting question.

“if we were in a different life, maybe even in a different universe,” he whispered, his hands flaying against steve’s arm and giving it a light squeeze. “would you have given me a second chance?”

steve blinked, his haze clearing up just enough for the memories of the other conversation that him and billy had had outside the arcade a while back.

_ listen here, pretty boy. when life gives you a second chance you take it, and never let it go. because second chances are hard to come by and some of us never get it. _

looking up at billy, steve sighed his frown deepening as the other kept his gaze locked at the sky. there was a glisten in his eyes, and if steve knew any better, he’d have thought that it was a tear.

_ until it’s too late. _

“if you stop acting like such an asshole and don’t put up a face,” despite the drunkenness, steve tried his hardest to sound sober, desperate for his words to have an impact. “then yes.”

_ yes. _

_ do you understand? _

_ yes. _

there was a lot unsaid in that “yes”. a lot of implications that steve had thrown into that yes.

_ yes _ . not just “sure”.

_ yes. _

billy’s chest fell drastically as the boy let the breath go. considering it a response, steve returned to his position against billy’s chest.

_ yes. _

the wind continue to rustle in the distance, keeping steve both cold and warm both at the same time.

billy took that last sip of whisky remaining in the bottle, gulping it down in an instant. he then chucked it out into the grass.

_ yes. _

another arm came to drape itself around steve as billy settled more comfortably into the hold, leaving steve completely warm.

_ yes. _

the two fell asleep in that position, the night continuing along with whatever it was that that night did as the world slept.

the stars twinkled, the clouds rolled, and the wind blew.

_ yes, billy. yes i will. _

so much unspoken. so much unsaid.

as it typically was with steve harrington.

water. bright blue water that was dancing in the luminescence of the outdoor lights. 

that was all that steve saw as he stared down at his pool, seated on the same dive board barb had been on the year before.

the same dive board that barb had died off of the year before.

steve’s toe dipped in the cool water as the boy kicked his leg back and forth. he was practically leaning over, about to tip into the water. the only thing keeping steve upright and not in the water was his weight against a cool beer that was held tightly in his hands in between in legs and against the wooden board.

steve was restless. he had been restless for a while. it was the desperation manifesting itself into a strange feeling irking right beneath his skin. it thrummed against his body, coarsing through his veins, and driving steve insane.

it was too much. way too much. and it had been for a while, building up slowly and slowly from the time of billy’s death, waiting for the moment where steve reached his limit.

and steve was getting there. slowly, but surely. steve was getting to his breaking point.

he was about to snap.

breathing erratically, steve stared desperately at his reflection in the water.

only he didn’t see himself. he never did in his pool anymore. not since that night with the baseball bat, the monster, and the lights.

for, in the water he saw barb. he saw barb staring right at him, her eyes dead, hollow.

steve’s body shook at the sight, unable to stop. his grip on the beer bottle tightened in a futile attempt for an emotional crutch.

steve tore his eyes away from the scene before the tears blurring his vision fell.

he shouldn’t have done that. for, as he looked up, he saw billy at the end of the pool, donned in his revealing, bright red lifeguard uniform. steve couldn’t see billy’s face or eyes for the boy was turned around, and from what he saw in barb, he didn’t think he wanted to see billy’s blue eyes in that moment.

billy just stayed standing. steve just stayed shaking.

“it’s not fair,” steve stammered out. billy didn’t move. “it’s not fair.”

billy didn’t move. steve’s legs kicked harder, the boy feeling his tipping point grow closer. he gripped onto the beer bottle tighter and tighter and tighter until steve couldn’t take it anymore in that moment.

“it’s not fair!” he roared out, his throat burning at the sudden shout.

the bottle broke in his grip.

gasping, steve’s head snapped down to see the shattered glass floating in the reddening water. his hands trembled as he lifted them to look at the cuts and the blood.

“it’s not fair,” he whispered, finding himself unable to feel anything else, not even the pain. steve glanced up, terrified to see billy gone from the spot he had seen him in.

the tear finally fell as steve’s frame shook even more, the blood still falling.

“it’s not fair,” he croaked at the unresponsive night, desperate for a reply.

nothing came.

nothing ever came.

and steve broke apart.

the upside takes and takes and takes.

first it took barb.

then it took will.

then it took bob.

then it took billy.

and, now, it was ready to take steve.

there was this night. way after the funeral. many days after.

steve stepped out of his car, kicking the door shut.

it had been a lazy day, one that was followed by a lazy night.

the boy leaned against the hood of his car, practically seated atop it. in his hands was a half empty bottle of whiskey. opening the cap, steve sighed and took a swig, wincing at the burn down his throat.

it was cold. icy cold outside. his fingers were white and shaking, all feeling drained out of him. his nose was red and running, the cold seeping slowly into his body. steve had nothing but a single jacket on top of a t-shirt with jeans--not the best outfit for a cold hawkins day.

steve shook his head with a sad laugh. another swig quickly went down his throat, just as quickly as the other did-- and at least his throat was warm. as he lowered his head, steve squinted as he caught a glimpse of a car in the distance.

the view was hard to decipher. steve wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. not until he craned his neck, stepping carefully onto a leg to allow his body to lean over more for a better look.

and then he saw it.

the blue camaro.

steve’s blood ran cold. colder than it had been before in the weather.

steve’s heart began to race gradually as the boy proceeded to gaze at the car. the details of his situation came to his attention, leaving steve all dizzy, confused, and afraid at once.

he was at the quarry.

he was drinking whiskey.

and in the distance, there was a blue camaro.

with someone sitting atop it.

lightning flashed. thunder roared.

and steve began to shake.

“billy?”

the night was dark and cold. the stars were bright and twinkling. the wind was soft and gentle.

steve looked up at billy, feeling a little disoriented. billy’s arms were still warm and gentle around him, and steve let himself appreciate the warmth before trying to remember what he was going to say.

billy was staring at the sky, the light of the moon reflecting off of his eyes.  _ were those tears? _ steve thought as he noticed billy’s chest rising up and down slowly, in purposeful controlled breathing.

genuinely worried, steve asked, “you good?”, the question coming out more as a mumble than a statement.

he waited for billy to say something.

nothing was said. billy’s chest rose and fell.

steve kept frowning, the silence not settling well with him in the situation.

something should’ve been said, right?

right?

lightning flashed again.

steve didn’t remember hearing the clap of thunder the should’ve followed.

“you good?” steve asked, eyes closed. he nuzzled more into the embrace.

billy didn’t say anything, and steve frowned. there was slight movement in the rise and fall of billy’s chest, making steve assume the other was asleep.

nothing remained said.

the wind blew in gusts, whistling as the world hummed loudly.

the thunder roared.

steve forgot what it was for.

there was this particular loud gust of wind, one that almost knocked steve and billy off of the camaro.

steve opened his eyes. he looked up. he saw billy. and he asked, “you good?”

billy didn’t say anything, unmoving.

and a terribly strong wave of feeling washed over steve.

deja vu.

lightning and thunder.

the winds crashed against the car, shaking the vehicle with reckless abandon. steve was still in billy’s arms, or, to be more exact, he was still in between billy’s arms, as the other’s hold was somehow weaker that it used to be.

_ it used to be. _ the gears in steve’s mind began to turn as the boy processed his position, his emotions, and the strangely overwhelming feeling of deja vu that was taking over him.

steve’s eyes suddenly widened as the familiarity of the situation dawned on him.

he jumped up with a gasp, shaking almost immediately.

he hadn’t been warm. not in billy’s arms, strangely enough. so it wasn’t the cold that was causing him to shake as violently as he was.

hesitantly, steve turned towards billy, his shaking not stopping from the fear of getting a good look at billy’s face.

thankfully, he wasn’t able to, and, frozen in his spot, steve didn’t dare lean over.

something was wrong.

something was off.

steve had already been in this moment, he knew that much.

then why was he here again?

daring to test a strange theory, steve curled in on himself, his eyes never leaving billy’s figure.

and he asked the question. “you good?”

and billy didn’t answer, leaving steve with nothing but quiet and fear.

the sky turned red.

and there was lightning and thunder.

one after the other.

over and over and over and over again.

steve couldn’t tell what was true or not. he couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming.

everything felt so... so  _ real _ . everything felt so exact, so correct.

he’s scared, terrified, unable to understand whether he was in a looped reality of some sorts. or even a looped memory, for, it all seemed so present and continuous, as if what was happening was really occurring in the real world.

the reality of steve’s situation was spine chilling as he failed to find an escape from billy’s now cold, limp arms and his lifeless question, “you good?”

he couldn’t escape--just stuck in repetition, his body shaking even more and more as the series continued.

at some point, he stopped reappearing in billy’s arms, the two of them sitting up next to each other on the hood of the camaro.

it was sudden, to see billy upright next to him, head ducked so that steve couldn’t get a look at his face. it was jarring, in the form of a change in the memory, a fact that left steve just as confused as he was before.

was this actually happening?

was this actually billy?

the red sky roared above the two of them, angry, vicious clouds hiding away the stars and the moon.

even the night was different, steve noticed, continuing the apparent loop with, “you good?”

billy never answered.

the sky kept changing.

that particular restlessness that steve had felt right above the pool made a comeback, creeping up steve’s spine and enveloping itself around the poor boy’s bones.

steve could feel each and every movement of the sensation, his mind reeling in incomprehension and confusion. everything was a haze, a blur, time losing itself as steve kept asking an unresponsive billy a question that would never be answered.

steve didn’t know how long the loop had been going. he’d been getting tired, nearing a point of exhaustion that would bring him even closer to his limit.

time was warping, confusing the reality around him, muddling steve’s reality of himself.

“you good?”

no answer.

and repeat.

and then, the first tear fell, just as it did at the pool. the strange, new sensation of the droplet against his hand pulled steve out of the abyss he had fallen into.

he looked up and the sky was clear, save for a mere few clouds, the stars and the moon shining all in their own delight and glory. steve’s face lit in the luminesce of the nightly charms, the relief echoing through the rest of his body as he fell limp against the hood of the car. steve closed his eyes.

_ finally _ , he thought, believing that he was free.  _ finally _ .

oh, how foolish he was.

time ticked away at a normal pace, allowing the frightened boy the moments he needed to stop shaking and calm down, providing the much needed space to process whatever had just happened.

processing wasn’t the easiest feat to accomplish in that moment, and, in a split decision fueled by residual fear and frustration, steve surmised to getting up and out, out of the quarry and away to the comfort of his room in his house.

steve sighed, his hands coming up to rub his face awake. slowly, but surely, the boy made it up, simultaneously fumbling through his jacket pocket for his keys. opening his eyes, he squinted at the front of the car in front of him, tilting his head as the faint light of the night reflected back the color of the vehicle.

once again, the silence roared against steve’s head, the red storm making its comeback again, only much stronger than either of the loops this time.

steve’s heart stopped as his face was drained of color, a sharp chill vibrating throughout his veins. the once restless feeling that had wrapped itself around steve’s bones constricted violently, choking the tormented boy’s body.

blue.

blue.

the car was blue.

a faint, worn out blue.

steve’s wide eyes teared up and shook as his gaze shifted from the color to the shadow next to his on the ground. the boy gripped tightly to the edge of the roof of the car, his grip weak and slippery, providing him no comfort or emotional anchor whatsoever.

steve didn’t dare turn to look at the boy next to him. from what he could make from the shadow, billy wasn’t curled in on himself, but upright, his blonde curls rustling softly in the violent winds.

“billy?”

there was no answer. steve’s hair danced violently in the vicious winds. the storm picked up even more.

“billy?” he asked again, not wanting to turn around and face the other boy.

the desired question of the reality was on the tip of his tongue, desperately trying to escape. steve’s hands gripped tighter to the edge, digging deep into the metal, creating a dent. he was trying, really trying so, so hard to fight the loop.

but it was so difficult. so, so difficult. and so, as the red lightning cracked across the angry, pitch black clouds up above, steve felt his grip on the edge loosen, his body fighting his locked position, keen to obey to the situation.

and steve shifted, turning to face billy.

and that’s when he got that look, that good look at billy. that’s when he saw the strict posture, the hands against his knees in an anticipatory gesture, the greyish skin decorated with black veins along the surface, and the hollowed out, frozen eyes trained on nothing at all.

just like barb.

just like barb.

billy was  _ just like barb. _

the restless itch that was choking steve shifted, slowly beginning to crack the very pillars of reality that steve had held onto in his mind.

“billy?” his voice was so small, so so small, almost nonexistent. for, steve was afraid that if he wasn’t quiet, he wouldn’t be able to stop what came next.

despite his efforts, steve cracked more and more.

“you good?”

it was what came after that was the final straw for steve. it was what steve saw immediately after the question that stopped everything as it was, causing a standstill for a brief moment in which he wasn’t able to breathe.

a tear rolled down billy’s cheek. the boy was still looking forward, his back erect, his hands poised against his knees, still looking like he was waiting for something, something in particular.

steve couldn’t breathe. he couldn’t move. time was still. everything was black around them, a faint reflection of both of their figures in the floor.

steve couldn’t care less at the change in scenery as he found himself unable to rip his eyes away from the seemingly possessed boy in front of him.

billy looked at him, eyes tearful just like that first night on top of his blue camaro. only, in that moment, he was also tired, exhausted, and drifting away, piece by piece.

“in another life” was all that billy said, broken, monotone, and gone.

and that was it.

billy’s eyes changed almost immediately, hollowing out to an emptiness that chilled every bone in steve’s body.

that was the final straw.

the restlessness shrieked, breaking steve apart almost instantly. the black background flashed away in a spark of red lightening, the storm back, this time shadowed and too violent for either of the boys to withstand.

billy remained empty, staring right at steve, hollowing out the brunette’s existence as the stare continued.

and steve snapped.

in another life, he thought, screaming and shaking violently.

in another life, where all would be well.

in another life where steve could’ve known sooner. where steve could’ve helped save billy.

in another life where billy could’ve felt love. where billy could’ve have had love to give it.

in another life where everything wasn’t  _ shit _ .

in another life where a lifeless body wearing billy’s face wasn’t staring at steve, dragging him to the very place where billy had gone.

steve couldn’t keep himself together. he just couldn’t.

“in another life,” he screamed at the top of his lungs to the storm convulsing around him.

“IN ANOTHER LIFE!” he roared, fallen off of the car and to his knees, his body unable to support him anymore. he tried to look up back at billy in a futile attempt, seeing the boy fade into the storm gradually.

in another life.

in another life, where steve wouldn’t have ever had to see eleven’s crying face as she trudged through the storm, calling out for him.

in another life, where steve wouldn’t have had to wake up to smoldering heat, worried faces, and an alarming amount of despair weighing down on his frail and tired heart.

in another life where he wouldn’t have had to leave billy, steve thought, his delirious mind overloaded from processing anything that was happening.

“in another life,” steve ignored the worried remarks around him. he closed his eyes, falling back into his pillow. it was soft, and warm, much like billy once was.

“in another life,” was all that he said before losing his senses again.

somewhere through the darkness, where the worries faded away, a voice called out.

“hey there, pretty boy.”

and all steve could answer was, “in another life.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed that! i had a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> visit me on tumblr/twitter for more stuff! i'm planning on whipping out my editing skills for a little something for this fic if it is well received ;)   
\- tumblr: uselessspork. tumblr.com  
\- twitter: @uselessspork


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